


Be Brave, Young Lovers

by theblindtorpedo



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Haddock POV, M/M, Old Gay sees Young Gays, Slow Dancing, Supportive Haddock, Tenderness, Tintin experiences fear of being outed, also sort of Haddock character study, references to period-typical attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblindtorpedo/pseuds/theblindtorpedo
Summary: Haddock wanders in on an intimate moment and discovers he and Tintin are not as different as he thought. Haddock takes it upon himself to put fears to rest.
Relationships: Tchang Tchong-Jen | Chang Chong-Chen/Tintin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Be Brave, Young Lovers

From his position in the sanctuary of the Marlinkspike master bedroom the gentle music sounded so faint at first Haddock thought he must still be dreaming. There was a flute there and some strings, a scratchy recording, but a serene and soft tune that conjured memories of imagined faeries and magic and royal balls from tales his mother had whispered to him decades ago. Her hands stroking his child’s hair and her voice spinning fantasy were treasured moments of respite from the hardness of his early life. That was long ago, before he took to sea, before her death, before he had reclaimed the family home and taken up being Tintin’s companion. Life was good now and he had no need for such lifelines of nostalgia; there was no reason for those sounds to be drifting through his mind. So, he waited in the comfort of his bed, letting the supposed dream music wash over him, until a sudden breeze shifted the curtain and the coaxing moonlight hit his eyes, piercing in its inarguable authenticity. This was no dream.

Haddock pulled a hand down his face with a groan. What hour must it be? He could not expect to sleep now. And that music . . .

He slipped out of bed and padded down the halls to suss out the source. Easily locating the correct door, he nearly tripped over a ground level obstacle in the dark hallway. Snowy, Tintin's faithful dog, lay at the threshold, but the dog was not asleep, raising its head in alarm before it recognized the man in front of it.

“Is your owner up to something?” Haddock whispered. Snowy snuffled and lay his head back down.

Haddock peeked through the door, prepared to jump in with a curse and a reprimand, before the view stopped him in his tracks, trapping his voice in his throat.

The Chinese boy, Chong-chen Chang, had come to stay in Marlinspike for the summer holidays, a request from Tintin. Haddock remembered it clearly. A breakfast overshadowed with anxiety that hung on Tintin like a badly fitted overcoat, until after an hour of tapping fork and the fifth deep sigh, Haddock had yelled at him to be out with it. Then Tintin had haltingly asked if Chang could come and although Haddock had grumbled about another mouth to feed, he made no hesitation in immediately informing Nestor to do up another guest bedroom. The manor was far too large even for four people and another young face was gladly welcome. Chang had brought with him a sense of stability and calm, careful good-naturedness and common sense that neither he, Tintin, nor Calculus possessed. Although fond of domesticity, Tintin grew easily restless after a month or so, but Chang seemed to alleviate the reporter’s itch to leave Belgium, as if he brought with him a whole new world of excitement and wonder. The two could be found reclining on the lawn munching sandwiches, promenading through the flowerbeds, inspecting Caculus’ latest invention, or conversing in the library. Haddock was certain Tintin was even attempting to teach Chang how to swim as they disappeared for hours and returned with newly tanned skin dripping wet, gasping and giggling. They had an easy camaraderie that Haddock both envied and admired. Especially after the Tibet incident it was clear to Haddock that Tintin cared specially for the other boy, much more than Haddock had believed when he had initially protested against the desperate rescue mission.

Had he put his noggin to the test, really thrashed the details as it were, he should have anticipated this. Haddock was no idiot, but it is easy to miss what is right in front of you when you are not looking for anything. It was so easy, so simple to believe Tintin and Chang were just good friends. He had always thought Tintin needed someone his own age. It had never occurred to Haddock that perhaps this was intentional, that Tintin perhaps avoided his peers for personal reasons, successfully so until his bleeding-heart nature had pulled a compelling young boy from a river in China.

Not having contemplated this alternative, Haddock was truly surprised now to find the two entwined in this way, dancing slowly to the music playing on the gramophone (a new record? Had Tintin purchased it in secret for this purpose?) Tintin’s hands were around Chang’s small back and Chang’s hands rested upon Tintin’s shoulders, chest to chest they swayed in unison. They had not noticed Haddock in how completely lost in each other they were, foreheads pressed together and tranquil smiles broken only when lips pressed together for kisses, careful and tender. If not for their shared gender they would be picture perfect young lovers.

Haddock felt a deep, resounding ache in his heart. He knew that look, had seen it on other boys and men he’d met back in his merchant marine days. He had danced like that on a ship's bow when they thought no one could see, when there was just the sea and the stars as witnesses. But Tintin and Chang were not men of the sea. They were doomed to walk another path, one Haddock had trod but purposefully meandered off and on whenever he could, for it was dark and draining. It was a life in the shadows of society, of quick trysts or love written in code, fear seeping through every kiss, and knowledge that friends and family would never, could never truly know you. It was not a life Haddock wished for his friends.

He coughed gently into his fist and pushed open the door. The boys stiffened, but did not release each other, instead Tintin pulled Chang closer, wrapping the other boy in his arms and moving his body to block him from Haddock. Tintin’s brows furrowed and lips pressed together; Haddock saw his legs shift in a familiar defensive stance. The music continued to play.

It was Chang, face still visible over Tintin’s shoulder, who broke the tension with a tone as casual as if it were daytime and he had not been caught in clandestine romantic activities. “Good evening. I am sorry if we disturbed your sleep.”

“You didn’t wake me up at all,” Haddock lied, “Sleep gets harder when you’re old.”

Chang nodded and turned expectantly to Tintin who’s mouth had fallen open slightly as if to ask something he did not yet fully know. His breathing came fast and shallow, overlaying the music in discordant noise. Haddock felt a throbbing in his temples and the urge to reach out, to take them both into his arms, an instinct he might act upon if he were not painfully aware of the fragility of the situation.

“Look,” he continued, “don’t let me interrupt you. I just wanted to say, I hope you’ll forgive an old sea dog for his grumbling sometimes about having you both around. You know I don’t mean it.”

“Of course not,” Tintin said, but his words were careful and strained as if teetering just on the precipice of hysteria. He still looked as if he would bolt if not for Chang’s hands now moved to his forearms where they stroked up and down in soothing motions.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing.” Haddock rubbed at the back of his neck. “You know Marlinspike is always open for you. There’s no judgement here and I guarantee no one will bother you so you don’t have to go doing” he waved his hand, “this, in the dead of night. You can have a bed to yourselves. Be out in the open during the day. Or if you want to be truly alone, a boat, ah, I could get a small boat for you? The sea has seen many of our type.” He let the words hang in the air, watched the contortions of their faces: embarrassment, relief, surprise, understanding.    


“All right, well. I’m going to go back to bed, I think.” _Stupid Haddock running your mouth again._

“I am sure we can talk about it more in the morning. You have been the most kind, Captain. Thank you,” Chang said.

Tintin did not say anything, but Haddock still felt the shift from hostility to tentative disbelief in the gaze affixed upon him, as if Tintin could not believe his luck. Eyes still locked with the Captain’s he placed a kiss at the crown of Chang’s head, possessive and definitive, a challenge to the Captain’s offer.  _ This is what you are allowing under your roof _ , it said. Haddock stood his ground and stared back, hoping Tintin could read the earnestness in his face despite his mixed-up words, emotion had scrambled up his thoughts so he spoke carelessly as always.

Then, Chang pressed a returning kiss to Tintin’s chin and reached to cup his cheek and they were lost again to each other, as if Haddock did not exist at all, had barely shattered their moment. It was all the agreement and thanks he needed. In returning to caresses, their sense of safety spoke volumes. For Haddock there it was again that ache of memory now touched by another note of melancholic longing for something he had never known. There had been those he had held that close, but always with the roll of a ship, and the knowledge of it all slipping away as soon as they made landfall. Tintin would never take money directly from him, but at least Haddock could offer him this oasis he had never found in his own youth. It was the least he could do.

He crept back to his room as quietly as he could and found that there were the smallest tears dripping down his face, and chastised himself for being a sentimental old bat, before crawling back under the covers. Even as his eyes shut, he could not stop thinking of it: Tintin and Chang in that room, with the music, holding each other like nothing else existed or mattered. It wasn’t what his Mother would have dreamed up in her stories, but it was another type of fairytale. Haddock hoped true love would win out in this one as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Chang is so calm, because unlike Tintin he Knows the Captain is Gay. He's perceptive like that. Tintin is good at reading people in certain situations, but not like..... emotionally.
> 
> Comments and kudos very much appreciated if you can! It's what keeps me writing.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](www.augustinremi.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](www.twitter.com/seccotines).
> 
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